


Love Lies

by KrazyKeke



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Black Character(s), Black Reader, F/M, Flirting, Hood!T'Challa, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Tumblr, Reader-Insert, T'Challa was raised in Oakland, Unresolved Sexual Tension, shy!reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 16:34:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17026227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrazyKeke/pseuds/KrazyKeke
Summary: Find a person who encourages you to grow, who won’t cling to you, who will let you go out in the world, and trust you to come back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything but the storyline. If y'all enjoy this read, please leave kudos and reviews.

**3150 Doctors Drive  
** Los Angeles, California  
1/12/17  
8:43 P.M. 

Being in a relationship, thinking about the future is a good thing, right? It’s normal, expected even. To want to progress beyond just being boyfriend and girlfriend, it’s okay to think about marriage. Especially if you’ve been with a person long enough. It’s perfectly acceptable to daydream and plan for a future with your significant other and children.

However, if the spark…the connection that brought you and your partner together in the first place, if it goes out, what do you do? If you’ve fought as long as you could to hold onto that person, tried everything to make things work and yet still things are broken, stagnant?

What do you do?

Do you stay or do you leave?

“You heading out with the boys tonight?” Sitting cross legged on the sofa, feet tucked underneath your butt, you watch as your boyfriend of three years gathered up some last minute things. “Really, Hakim?”

“Baby…” he sighed. “Can we…can we not do this right now? Please?”

“Do what?” Your brows furrowed. “I’m not doing anything, I’m asking you–”

He cut you off. “I can hear it in your voice, you’re about to start whining about how I don’t spend enough time with you.” 

Stung, your head rears back. “Hakim…”

Pausing, in the process of shoving his arms through the sleeves of his jacket, Hakim briefly glances back at you and his face softens slightly. Walking the short distance back to the sofa that you’re situated on, he leans down and pressed a chaste kiss to the side of your head, “I didn’t mean that. I’ve just…” he sighed. “I’ve just been stressed from work and I lashed out and I’m sorry.”

You bit your bottom lip. One one hand, he’d apologized, but on the other…

Like a shark sensing blood in the water, Hakim knew that your resistance is crumbling. “I am so, so sorry, baby.” He promised again. “We can talk all about this when I get in.” 

If he were staying out with his friends, no doubt he’d be pissy drunk and fall asleep on the couch to avoid talking anyway. The two of you had been dating all throughout high school and college, you knew his patterns and behaviors and avoidance tactics. 

“This was supposed to be our chill day…” You murmur. “But I guess…” You shrug and muster up a smile as you glance up at him. “I guess it’s cool. There’s always next weekend.” 

“Really,” Hakim smiled, only it faltered after a second. “I mean, are you sure? I can stay in…”

You could hear the reluctance in his voice. 

“I said that it’s cool. Go on,  _go_!” You force some cheer into your voice. “Hang out with your friends. I’ll be here.” 

Like always. 

There’s a knock at the door and he steps away, going to answer it. On the other side is a few guys and they all cheer when they see him, it sounds like they’ve already started drinking a bit anyway. 

Hakim grins and stretches his arms out, going, “Ayyyye~”

There’s some raucous cheering and goading leveled his way, and you rise off the sofa, padding across the carpeted floor. The guys notice you and you get some waves and greetings, which you return out of habit. Smiling even though you don’t really want to, but you don’t want to put anyone else in y’all’s business. 

“I’ll see you in a little minute.” Hakim promises, smooching you on the cheek, halfway out the door. 

“Okay.” You placed a hand on the doorknob. Mustering up another phony smile and with practiced ease, ignoring the instinctive need to ask him to just stay in with you tonight. The last thing you want is to be called whiny twice in one night. Once they’re gone, you close the door and lock it. 

Turning back around, you glance around the living room and sigh. ‘I can get some cleaning and maybe get a headstart on the laundry.’ 

_Bzzt-Bzzzt!_

The screen of your cell phone lit up and you recognized that it’s a text message. For a moment, hope seeped into your heart and you hurry over to answer, to see that maybe Hakim changed his mind. 

> **From: Bestie Boo  
>  Sent: 8:47 P.M.  
>  To: (Your Nickname)**
> 
> **I’m in _desperate_ need of a girl’s night out. Tell me that you’re free. **

Swallowing the disappointment, you force yourself to wait a few minutes, trying to make it seem like you actually had something going on instead of being at home, alone, on the day that you’re supposed to be wit ya man, chilling, maybe…not chilling at all. 

Your face felt warm at the illicit thoughts going through your mind and you’re thankful that your skin tone doesn’t allow you to noticeably blush.

It was the third time in two weeks that Hakim decided to call off a pre-planned chill day and the excuses were tired. Your vibrator needed new batteries and your hand just was getting it anymore. 

Maybe if you’d been more direct, he’d have stayed in and blew your back out?

Then again, he’d known you long enough. Shouldn’t he have picked up on the hint that you needed some dick in ya life? Why did you have to schedule and reschedule to get something that you should be getting regularly? The hell…

_Bzzt-Bzzt!_

Your cellphone lit up again and you swiped the screen after entering the unlock code. Ignoring the three unread text messages, feeling mildly embarrassed as you skimmed the contents, which were suggestive and teasing in equal measure. 

> **From: (Your Nickname)  
>  Sent: 8:57 P.M.  
>  To: Bestie Boo**
> 
> **I’m available. What we doing? Should I get dressed up?**

Hakim went out all the time without putting much consideration into premade plans while you stayed in. 

This time? 

This time, you planned for things to be very different. You weren’t going to think about Hakim. 

Tonight is all about you, you, and you, and having a good time. 

Periodt.

* * *

**1206 13th Ave  
** Oakland, California  
9:02 P.M. 

Why? Why did he always end up in these dramatic ass situations?

“You make me so damn mad, T’Challa!” 

Neatly stepping backwards, he avoids the vase that’s thrown from the second floor. The [woman ](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fs12.favim.com%2Fmini%2F170122%2Fafrican-american-woman-beautiful-black-woman-curly-hair-Favim.com-5011537.jpeg&t=ZjI3OWM4ZDEyZmQwMjU0ODdmODhmYWI4MWFhMmQ1MmUzZWIyOGE2YyxkUXRDRzVnag%3D%3D&b=t%3APwauZoCL8-SYTxdcS3Xtdw&p=https%3A%2F%2Ftchalla-after-dark.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179265029835%2Flove-lies&m=1)standing at the top, glaring down at him from over the banister is gorgeous, even in her rage induced fit which has her face twisted into a scowl.

“Don’t be mad at me for tellin’ the truth, Nishay.” T’Challa says, calm in the face of her rage. “I’m being honest like you wanted, expressin’ my feelin’s and allat shit you said I needed to do.” He shrugged, staring up at her evenly, “I just ain’t feelin’ you like that no more.” 

“You fuckin’ some other bitch! I know it!” Nishay practically screamed, spittle flying out her mouth as she became more and more upset. “Everybody told me what a no good nigga yo ass was but I was stupid enough to give you the benefit of the doubt!”

…This always, always happened to him. 

“Okay.” he shrugged. “I got a game to get to. You can think what you want. I ain’t got time to cater to your mood swings right now.” Turning on his heel, his hand is on the doorknob and he’s about to walk out…

Nishay starts crying loudly. 

He sighed. 

The sound increased, becoming even more obnoxious. “Plea…please…Don’t leave me…T-T’Challa…” 

Half turning, he looks back at and up at her. Hands in front of her face, half bent over as she cried… “It ain’t that deep. We was fucking and kicking it before you made it weird. You already got a man. Hell, you married. Work it out.” Really, these dramatic women… He wondered if he was releasing a pheromone or something that attracted crazy people to him. 

“T’Challa, wa–”

This time, he stepped out the front door and didn’t look back.

He had a basketball game to get to. Too much time had been wasted dealing with her. 


	2. Chapter 2

“ _G i r l_ , if you don’t stop  _ **hidin**_ ’ in that  **bathroom** …”

The sound of your best friend, Telah’s, voice, even muffled by the door, clearly had a trace of aggravation in the tone. You knew that if you didn’t answer her in the next few minutes, she’d do her damndest to go  **through** the door. 

Yet, even knowing all this, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the mirror, brushing your hands down the length of your sides. Biting your bottom lip, you felt self-conscious and exposed in this outfit, but then rationalized that it was  _kind of the point_. 

If your man didn’t think you were pretty enough to spend a night in with, then you’d go out, act the part of a single woman, and let someone else deal out the compliments and pant over you. 

Really, it was a fool proof plan. 

‘Oh, God, this is a terrible idea.’ You thought with dread, looking at yourself in the mirror once again. 

Letting out a near soundless sigh as the doorknob jiggled uselessly, as it was locked, you unlock and then step back, crossing your hands underneath your chest, as you avoided Telah’s stare down. 

“I told you I be a minute–” You start to say.

“And it’s been a minute.” Telah cut you off. Stepping into your personal space, she without hesitation made you do a little turn and a couple poses before humming and finally, after two minutes of making you sweat, cracked. a smile. “Just like I thought, that dress I had sitting in the back of my closet looks a thousand times much better on you.” Ignoring your flustered denials, she did her own little diva spin. “Now what about me, boo?”

“…Flawless as always.” You state after looking her up and down. 

“You hesitated!” Finger jutted in your direction in an ‘aha!’ manner, she squinted at you. “What’s wrong wit what I’m wearin’? Be as honest and brutal as possible! Lay it on my sis~”

Shrugging, feeling the urge to dig the sole of your shoe into the carpeted floor, you glance at her face before looking down then to the side. “No, you really look good.” You promise, biting your tongue to avoid complaining about your outfit. “So where this party at that we goin’ to? Is it at a club? A bar?”

“It’s a houseparty!” Hands up in the air, she made little jazz hands, mouth pulled into a grin. At your…less than enthused reaction, Telah’s hands went back to her sides and she put her hands against her hips. “Don’t be like that, sis! I promise it’s gon be fun!”

You eye her skeptically, as she’d uttered those dreaded words a few occasions previous and never had any of those outings been anything remotely close to fun for you. 

Pressing her hands together in a praying, beseeching manner, she begged, “Please, please do this for me, Y/N! I can’t go by myself, I’ll look like a square! There’s this really sexy guy I’m tryna get in good wit, have him all up in my guts tonight. You’ll really be doing me a favor and you know I’m good wit payin’ back my favors.  _Puhlease_ –”

Holding up a hand for quiet, you’re gratified that she shushes instantly, though she keeps looking at you with puppy dog eyes, which is really unfair. “Fine….fine!” You agreed, ignoring the loud cheer she let out. “I’ll go but I’m not staying there all night, especially in some stranger’s house. You know how I feel about that.”

Telah’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a big hug. “Thankyouthankthankyou!” Giving you a loud, exaggerated kiss to the side of the forehead, “You the best, I adore you! Thank yousomuch!” Ignoring your loud proclamations for space, she then hustled out the bathroom, snagging your hand and dragging you along, already on her cellphone.

Although you still had reservations about this night, you decided to shelve them like a good friend should. Regardless, you’d stay for maybe two hours max, and you’d leave even sooner if things weren’t panning out the way you wanted.

Win-win, right?

‘So why do I feel so tired already?’ You wondered with a silent sigh. 

**~**

**9267 Del Monte St.  
Oakland, California  
11:36 P.M.**

“Good game, man.”

People killed him. 

T’Challa likes to think that he’s a good judge of character. 

He can tell when somebody is being genuine with him and when they on the bullshit, and his bullshit radar is generally pretty decent, though kind of fritzy with females, a fact that his family mocked him about constantly, telling him that he thought with his dick more than his brain whenever a pretty face flashed him a smile, especially during his younger years. 

Back to the matter at hand.

He knew with absolute certainty, that this dude in front of him, offering him stilted congratulations, had betted against him in the basketball game he’d just won an hour and a half ago. Likely lost a good chunk of change too, judging by how he kept trying to smile politely when clearly all he wanted to do was throw him out of his house. 

Dumbass. 

“Thanks, bruh.” With a faint smile, his eyes drifted away, lifting his red plastic cup to his lips and then took a sip of the drink. It was one of his many ways of dismissing a person, but the dude still lingered around. 

“I’m came over because I’m just curious,” 

Bullshit. 

“Why you ain’t enjoying the party more? All this to celebrate yo win, after all.” 

T’Challa glanced out at the scene in front of him, observing the people dancing, their own cups raised in the air, the music loud and blasting. 

As his gaze drifted over the throng of people, like clockwork, a [pretty red bone](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.ch%2Fpin%2F310537336788319057%2F&t=M2VjMGMyMTc3YjA5ZWM0NzNlOTMyYjVkOWI2MDczOWVkMzQ2ZTM3Yixka2M5b0xPcg%3D%3D&b=t%3APwauZoCL8-SYTxdcS3Xtdw&p=https%3A%2F%2Ftchalla-after-dark.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F180960223115%2Flove-lies&m=1) drifted over and took a seat beside him on the couch. He’d bet half of his winnings that this was set up. Glancing at the suddenly smirking man in front of him, T’Challa bit back the urge to cuss. 

“Enjoy your night. Live a little, King.” 

Then he was just gone, leaving him alone with this girl who stared at him like a piece of meat. It was kind of flattering but also disturbing too. Before he could open his mouth and try to say something, she was straddling his lap, hands going around his shoulders. 

Trapping him. 

 _Shit_!

“So you’re the one errbody keep calling the King of the streets? The basketball player that’s supposed to be good enough to go pro?”

Leaning his head back, the motion practiced and casual, T’Challa effected an air of disinterest. ‘Her breath smell like cigarettes.’ “That’s just exaggerations.” He shrugged. “You know how it is.” 

For some reason, his response made her giggle. “Handsome and modest.” Cocking her head to the side, she leaned in, trying to catch his lips, he let her get close enough, and just before she could, turned his head to the side. “And a little shy too?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Whatever it took to get her to back off, he couldn’t stand cigarette breath on females, biggest pet peeve. “Look, ma. Why don’t you go get me somethin’ to drink to loosen up, okay?”

She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “Yea, a’ight, whatchu want?”

Hand lifting up, he half cupped her face, cradling her jaw, thumb tracing over her lips and watched as her eyes dilated. “Surprise me.” Although her breath stank like straight ass, maybe he could get away with shoving her on her stomach and hitting it from the back, that way he ain’t have to smell nothing. 

As soon as she scrambled off his lap and disappeared into the throng of partygoers, T’Challa migrated from the couch to step outside on the front porch, then down around to the side for a minute, less people were there, thank whatever god listening, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cellphone. Entering the code to unlock the screen, he immediately went to the latest text message that he’d received. 

**[From: Shuri  
To: Big Brother  
10:02 P.M.  
Message: I hope you’re safe. Mama put up your plate.]**

Guilt stung at his conscious. 

Truthfully, he’d supposed to have been back home an hour ago, but he’d been waylaid by overexcited fans and bullied into attending this party. He’d promised to stay thirty minutes to an hour with his cousin, N’Jadaka (or Erik depending on who was addressing him) only to immediately be abandoned by the other man who’d been dragged upstairs with two other women sometime ago. 

Now, however, he had a concrete reason enough to leave. 

Unwilling to lie in a message as he’d never be able to maintain the lie face to face, T’Challa chose to say nothing. He shoved his cellphone back into his pocket after sending a text message to his cousin saying that he’d be leaving in less than thirty minutes, so if he didn’t want to be stranded, hurry the hell up. Then he headed back inside, smiling lightly at the well wishers thumping him on the back, inwardly relieved not to see the red bone sitting at the couch. 

No, someone else had taken up residence there. 

Two people to be precise, a male and female. The guy was talking to the woman, or at least talking at her, because the way she radiated discomfort and disinterest was apparent to him even though he wasn’t close enough yet to know what was being said. 

‘I can’t even be mad at cuz. She is…’ 

Unable to really help himself, his eyes trailed over her figure from head to toe. Since she was sitting down, T’Challa isn’t sure whether she’d be tall, short or average height, but she thick, the dress that she wore only heightening her curves and overall figure, even the little pudge of belly. 

Hell, even the  _color_ of the dress enunciated her beauty, making him pay attention to the little things that he normally dismissed, like fact that her nose was small but a little wide, her lips full and pouty.

And her  _breasts_. 

‘Get it together, Udaku.’ Running a hand over his face, making sure that he wasn’t drooling, T’Challa didn’t think twice about his next course of action. Striding over to the couch, he took a seat right next to ole girl, taking up what little room was left on purpose. 

**~**

You’d known coming to this party was a bad decision in the end. 

Although Telah had stayed with you, some guy had accosted her a few minutes into y’all stepping foot in the house and when she sent a hopeful glance in your direction, you’d waved her off. Being that you didn’t trust or know anyone here, you’d made your bestie make a pit stop at a small grocery store and put a couple bottles of water in your purse, ignoring her insistence that the people there were cool. 

Now, for the last ten minutes, you’d been clutching at a bottle of water, scrolling through your cell phone and trying to be invisible. Only for a dude that sent off little alarm bells in your head came and sat down next to you. He’d introduced himself, but you didn’t hear him, keeping your gaze on the electronic in your hand, hoping that your disinterest would make him lose interest.

“I’m not going away, you know? So you have to talk to me eventually.”

The alarm had gotten even worse. 

You were about to risk getting up and leaving when someone sat down next to you. Taking a gamble, you looked up at the [person ](https://66.media.tumblr.com/bb1a8ecca6f9f2220f9c466795b7e890/tumblr_p727m4nxYi1xoa927o2_500.gif)from beneath your eyelashes and you’re stunned to feel a zing of attraction sizzle through your being. 

He’s tall, easily about six feet if you had to guess, and lean, though he isn’t skinny, there’s some muscle definition that you can make out, even with the poor lighting in this house. He has a headful of short dreads, though the sides are neatly shaved. Normally, you liked your men clean shaven, but he made that goatee (beard?) work for him. 

And his mouth. 

‘Stop starin’ at his mouth!’ 

Glancing away quickly, but not quickly enough, you catch sight of his dark eyes as they give you the once over, and while you’d normally be offended by that, citing that only your man could do that, right now you really, really didn’t mind the attention. 

Then he sat down. 

Right. Next. To. You.

“Put your number in my phone.” His thigh is pressed against your own, the feeling even more intense because your dress cuts off just above the knee. You can smell his cologne, he’s that close, and part of your brain is SCREAMING yet you don’t get up and move away from him on the couch.

Honestly, you don’t feel uncomfortable or stalked at all with this new guy, unlike Creep-o on the other side of you. And that could be a problem with how your heart is racing a little just from such a simple sentence. 

‘But his  _voice_ …’ 

“Really, bro?” Creep-o asked incredulously, and you’re brought back to reality. “Really?”

“Yea, really.” Mr. Sexy Voice drawled, sounding bored of the conversation already. “She not feelin’ you, bruh, so you can go.” There’s a beat of silence. Suddenly, his voice dropped, becoming even icier and a shiver raked up your spine at the subtle promise of violence in his tone if Creep-o didn’t vamoose asap. “ _Now_.” 

“Man, whatever. She ain’t even that cute anyway!” 

As soon as Creep-o vacated the couch, you sighed in relief, shoulders drooping as they lost their tension, only to feel a bit flustered to realize that the other man was still there and watching you at the corner of his eye. “Ummm….” 

“Hm?” Then he quirked a smile, features becoming less aggressive and shifting into something…you couldn’t quite put your finger on how he looked at you. Amused but also something else. 

“Uh, thanks.” You resist the urge to fidget. “For…”

“For?”

Brows furrowing, you wondered if he’d make you say it. “For making that guy go away!” Then slapped a hand over your mouth, as your voice got a little louder than you intended but still wasn’t the normal loud as other people.

Humor sparkled in the man’s eyes and suddenly you recognized the emotion in his gaze, he was  _teasing_ you!

Huffing, you looked away from him, only after a second, he reached out with a finger and coaxed you to look at him again, a feat nearly impossible because direct eye contact mostly made you skittish and had you unable to focus. 

“I’m sorry for teasing you.” he uttered. “But I did mean it, you know.”

What?

Apparently he’s psychic or you’re an open book, because he continued on to say, “Your number. I want it.” 

Suddenly, your mouth felt dry as dust. Heart thundering in your chest, your lips part and —

“Y/N!” Telah’s voice is like a splash of cold water, jolting you to awareness. “Girl, let’s bounce. This party whack as shit.” 

Scrambling away from him, your skin feels warm to the touch, and you stand up hurriedly. “I’m right here!” Your voice is high pitched and cracks a bit, you sound guilty as shit. “Wait, we leavin’ now? I thought you and…”

Telah waves her hand in front of her irritatedly, “It don’t even matter. Let’s just go.”

“O-Oh, okay…”

You don’t have time to say goodbye before your bestie is dragging you along with her for the front door and you don’t look back. Can’t. But then, it’s unnecessary as you can still feel his eyes on you, watching you as you leave and the feeling makes you warm all over. 

He’s trouble. 


End file.
